


The Light That Falls on My Castle

by kinoface



Category: Good Charlotte, Third Eye Blind
Genre: M/M, Moving In Together, POV Second Person, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:11:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>California is a long way from Maryland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light That Falls on My Castle

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a line from 3eb's "An Ode to Maybe." Also I can't believe I wrote this six years ago. I can't believe I wrote this, period. Obscure crossover pairings for the win!

California, you begin to realize, is a long way away from Maryland.

"And you'll call me every day, right? And you won't do anything I wouldn't do, because--"

"Benji," you cut him off, trying very hard not to roll your eyes, "I think you should be more worried about me doing things you _would_ do."

He considers this a moment, looking off with narrowed eyes the way he always does while thinking about something, and says, "So just call me every day, then."

You grin. "Every day, sure. You've never sounded so much like a big brother before." Before he can respond with something like _Oh thank God_ , you move forward and pull him closer, your arms around his shoulders. It's something a little tighter, a little more desperate than planned.

"I'll miss you, bro," he says, voice quiet, arms warm around you. "You take care of yourself."

That's the last thing he says before you get on the plane, looking back at him with his huge eyes like maybe if he pulls out the pout he can convince you to stay. You promised him you would take care of yourself, but it's him you're worried about. This sudden onset of protectiveness is a little troubling; he never sounded like the big brother before, not since you were kids. Not since Dad left. You were able to put all of that behind you, were able to deal. Benji never really could, though.

When you get off the plane Stephan is there, waiting for you with open arms and wearing the Clash shirt you left in his hotel room that first time. He kept it, but gave you his; it's in your bag. He hugs you tightly and smells just like you remembered, just like always. You drop your bag, hug him back, and it's a little tighter, a little more desperate than planned. "Welcome home, kid," he whispers in your ear, before he puts his tongue there. He never was one to care about the photographers that always seem to be hovering. Your mind is on other things, though.

 _Home._ This doesn't feel like home.

In the car he plays Run DMC and asks about your trip, stealing glances in your direction whenever possible. You smile for him, put your hand over his on your knee, and try not to mention Benji. Stephan, you know, is not a big fan of your brother. The feeling is entirely mutual. It's absurd how much one always thinks the other is trying to take you away. Stephan, Benji is probably thinking right now on the other side of the country, has won.

"What are you thinking about?" Stephan asks, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your knee.

 _Benji_ is what you want to say, maybe just to see his reaction. "How's Vanessa?" you ask instead. He laughs, shakes his head, and doesn't say anything else until you get to his house.

Your house, now.

Everything feels familiar, because you've been here a thousand times before. You've worn all of his boxers, and tee-shirts, and bed sheets, and slept on all of his couches, fucked in every possible spot--his favorite was on top of the piano he bought for Vanessa. You know this house like you know your own, and now it is yours. The thought is a little unsettling.

He helps you unpack, orders Chinese food and you eat it with forks in his bed. You play around in his studio, put on the headphones and listen to some of the new songs he's working on, somehow end up sitting on the stairs with him between your legs, reacquainting himself with every inch of you.

Lying in bed, a bucket of rice still sitting on the nightstand, he brushes the hair from your forehead and asks what's wrong. Looking into those eyes, you can't lie.

He rolls his eyes when you tell him that you feel guilty for leaving Benji, and says Benji has to learn to take care of himself. Tells you that you deserve a break, and that if you just keep babying your brother he'll never learn to do anything without your help. He calls you kid and makes you feel like one too, in that talked down to way only he can, and you wonder if maybe you made the wrong decision.

Then he kisses you gently, tasting like sweet and sour sauce and something spicy, something purely Stephan, and whispers things to you that make you remember why you're here. Even if he does hate your brother and scare you sometimes with just the way those eyes look back at you.

You fall asleep next to him and wake up at a quarter past midnight, jumping out of bed and racing down the hall to the phone. It's Tony who picks up and passes the phone to Benji, who asks, "So, how is it so far?"

"It's... kind of weird."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You talk for an hour until Stephan wakes up, and you say goodbye with an "I love you."

Benji says, "I love you, too."

Stephan slinks up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist and nuzzling the back of your neck. For the briefest of moments your mind wanders back 3,000 miles to Benji, to your home, to the nights you used to spend eating takeout leftovers and listening to punk rock music in your dark bedroom. "Come back to bed, kid," Stephan whispers, his voice all rough and sleep-slow, and you follow without hesitation.

It'll never be home, but it's where you are, and slowly you're beginning to remember why you came here in the first place. It brings you love and shelter and happiness, and it brings you comfort to see that after a day Benji hasn't broken down, and that neither have you, and that maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.

Benji may be where your home is, but right now this is where you belong, and you think you can learn to deal with that. Both of you can.


End file.
